Be Mine
by Ms. Chaos
Summary: Sherlock receives a valentine. From someone he least expected.


**Disclaimer:** _I don't nothing to the BBC's Sherlock. It belongs to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and recently to Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat. So, please don't sue. _

_This takes place before "The Great Game"._

**Summary:** _Sherlock receives a valentine. From someone he least expected. __  
_

* * *

It was a simple clue. To anyone else, they would have chucked it into the trash without a second thought but that isn't usually the case with Sherlock Holmes.

To him, it wasn't a random note that Mrs. Hudson handed to him along with his post. It was something new. He quickly stuffed it inside his jacket pocket before John could see it. It was an obvious clue and he knew who sent it.

It was very easy to slip out of the flat without John knowing. He's done it before. Sherlock knew that if John ever found out about the note, he would have tagged along no matter what Sherlock said. Sherlock wanted to do this alone. The note is for him. It was a clue for him like a treasure hunt. The child deep down inside of him practically jumped with excitement at the thought. He knew exactly where to go. He was quickly out of the door before John could stir in his sleep.

The warehouse was typically dark and dank in the cold February night air. It definitely set the mood to go along with the arrival of the mysterious note but all this didn't bother Sherlock. He's been in far worse places than the warehouse besides he had only one thing on his mind that wasn't about the state of the abandoned warehouse. His torchlight shone through the darkness, casting a single beam in front of him. His eyes darted around, looking in every direction for the room that awaited his prize. So far, it was an empty corridor, dripping and moldy with age. His eyes soon fell upon the room at the back. Something reflected back as his light passed in front of it. He picked up his pace and headed straight for it without hesitation. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he licked his lips in anticipation.

_"X marks the spot."_

The room was just as depleted as the rest of the warehouse. Graffiti adorn the walls and bits of broken furniture littered around the floor that was left by street kids who got bored one night. The only thing that stood out was the package, sitting neatly on the floor. It was perfectly wrapped with a dark ruby-red wrapping paper with a soft black velvet ribbon. It was a stark contrast of the room but yet, it said so much about the person who left it there.

It looked innocent enough though that didn't stop Sherlock from picking it up and quickly examining it. He wasn't worried about a booby trap like a bomb or poison, if that was the case then this person has plenty of other opportunities to kill him. He was merely looking for anything that would give away clues to who this person was but of course, there was none. This person was far too clever to leave anything behind. But what was beneath the wrapping told a different story.

He carefully unwrapped the package. The paper and ribbon could be found in any generic gift shop so those didn't tell him anything but the box itself was the most interesting subject. It was a wooden box. But it wasn't just a simple wooden box. Sherlock smirked to himself. It was beautifully handcrafted Turkish puzzle box made from one of the most expensive wood, cherry wood in fact, judging by the slight tinge of pink.

The box was seamless, not showing any openings. Only if you knew where to look. Turkish puzzle boxes open in 4 or 5 steps. The first step is finding the key.

Sherlock shifted the box slightly of center, slid the piece of wood on the bottom right revealing a small opening. He tilt the box and a tiny silver key fell out into his hand. Next, he then slid the entire bottom of the box back which let the small piece of wood on the front to slide down exposing a keyhole. The key fit perfectly. There was a small click and the top lid popped. Sherlock slowly pried the lid open wanting to draw out this moment as slow as he can.

A sound of a click and a mechanical winding up resonated from the box and suddenly began playing a simple jovial tune.

"A music box." Sherlock said out loud, feeling slightly disappointed. Sherlock paid no attention to the music. He had hoped that it was what he had waited for but all this was nothing more than a taunt. He noticed a piece of pink paper shaped in to a heart, folded inside of the red velvet lined box. The note neatly written with heavy black ink in cursive handwriting and it read;

_Be Mine._  
_-M_

Sherlock crumbled the note in his leather gloved hand. The music box had finally stopped its music.

"No," Sherlock thought sadly to himself. "No, the game wouldn't be played today."

_The End._

* * *

_Yeah. A Valentine's Day fic. In the middle of August. I know, it doesn't make sense to me either but that's how my brain works. lol Also, if anybody curious about what the music box is playing you can go to this link watch?v=QdauFg5VJxo to listen. _

_Please don't be shy to leave a review. :)_


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